


Sei's Scraps

by Sei_Bellissima



Category: Hoshi no Kaabii | Kirby: Right Back at Ya!, Kirby (Video Games), Kirby - All Media Types
Genre: Collection of Stuff, Deleted Scenes, Gen, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Scraps
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-10
Updated: 2018-06-27
Packaged: 2019-05-20 10:22:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14892821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sei_Bellissima/pseuds/Sei_Bellissima
Summary: Scrapped scenes/chapters that didn't quite make it into my fics.(Will mostly be, at first, scrapped scenes from my now discontinued fic,Soldier On.But as time wears on that's bound to change...)Rated Teen to be safe.





	1. Soldier On Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To those of you who weren't aware: yes, Soldier On is sadly discontinued, and you can find out why by clicking [here.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13313688/chapters/31095879#chapter_4_endnotes)
> 
> Looking through my doc folders, there's... quite a lot of bits and pieces I had written that never saw the light of day. I even discovered I had all of chapter 5 written! I must have gotten so caught up wondering what the heck was supposed to happen next that I forgot it was finished... I feel bad letting that stuff just sit there, so what do I do? Make a collection out of it :'D
> 
> Anyway, here's that chapter five. If you're in the dark, you might wanna go read Soldier On, 'cause without context it might not make much sense.

The days that followed took a strange turn for the residents of Castle Dedede. The king could sense a gloomy feeling weighing down not just himself, but others as well. Why, he couldn’t say. It shouldn’t be, especially since those around him have had good things happen to them, for the most part. Daroach found a treasure; Adeleine found a friend. They should be happy, but they just… weren’t.

Adeleine, for one, was suddenly boarding herself up in her room for hours on end; no reason or explanation provided. She had a noticeably tired complexion whenever she did happen to emerge from her apartment. The teen did get stressed and tired around school, because of homework and looming deadlines, but it was the middle of _summer,_ her favorite season! She should be anything but exhausted!

As for Daroach, he seemed… uncharacteristically grumpy. The mouse was always either a joy or a pain to be around, lighting up the room with a tale from his work as a detective, or killing the mood with a rude or raunchy joke. Either way, he was almost always in a good mood, but now he was the complete opposite. He was brushing the other mice off, interrupting the waddle dee’s work just to get around them, leaving cigar butts laying around instead of properly discarding them, and all kinds of other disrespectful stuff that was, in general, not like Daroach at all.

The Ebrums, too, seemed to be suffering from this mysterious sadness bug. The kids were their usual happy selves, but the parents, the missus especially, had the long face.

Dedede himself even felt down lately. He had reason to believe that everyone’s behavior was influencing him, along with the rainy, groggy summer weather, but that wasn’t the root of the problem. What was causing _everyone else_ to act so out of character? He didn’t want to ask and find out directly in the fear that he’d set someone off… but, whether he liked it or not, he knew he’d have to act eventually. He couldn’t bear living knowing his friends, his _family_ , were deteriorating mentally just because he wasn’t there to help them.

On the bright side, Meta Knight and Kirby seemed to be fine. But they have been largely keeping to themselves as of late…

* * *

All was good and well for Meta Knight, at least. There was no better way to spend a hot muggy day than staying in the cool indoors, and relaxing with a good book.

The high-pitched cackles of Kirby echoed out of the hall, forcing a small smile onto the his face. Kirby’s laughter was a beautiful sound, enough to bring joy to anyone who heard it: it was loud belly-laugh, full of joy and life. It brought Meta Knight back to the days in the war, specifically when he and Kirby would sneak out of the camp to have play fights with each other, or make shapes out of the stars in the sky, just generally to have a good time, forgetting the battle scars they’ve received. Those were the days…

Not a second later, a toy car came zooming out of the passageway, slowing down as it approached Meta Knight, its bumper giving his foot a gentle tap. He closed his book and set it aside, bending down to pick up the miniature vehicle. Its wheels spun back-and-forth erratically, as if it was trying to escape his grasp.

“Mena!”

There in the doorway, Kirby stood, blue eyes wide and full of excitement. He fiddled with a remote control, again causing the car’s wheels to spin wildly. Meta Knight eyed the child again. He could see that look in his eyes… that wild, mischievous look, that clearly told Meta Knight that the little prankster was planning something. Grinning to himself, he turned the car around while the wheels were still spinning, then gave it a good push as he set it down, sending it speeding back down the hall.

Kirby gave a little shriek and tailgated the car, his adorable giggles getting louder with each step he took. When he was completely out of view, he did another happy shriek, letting Meta Knight only imagine what the kid could possibly be doing in there.

He gave a chuckle, though, as he realized it was just Kirby’s childish nature showing after so long—during the war Kirby was constantly forced to keep a straight face, and never found much leisure time. Things weren’t much better when he was forced into his starship and put to sleep, all set to drift about the cosmos for a century. But now, Kirby finally, after so long, found the freedom to just be the kid he was—playful, carefree, and filled with curiosity.

What was Meta Knight to take that freedom away from him?

That thought alone filled him with guilt… He didn’t he could find it in himself to break the news to Kirby—that everything still wasn’t right with the world. That the war against Nightmare wasn’t over. That they still needed to keep fighting...

He wasn’t entirely sure what Nightmare’s motives were, but it was probably anything _but_ good. He needed to act, to do something, before the evil wizard could make another move. The more planets Nightmare took over, the more power and control he possessed in the galaxy. If Meta Knight waited too long, it would be much harder to beat Nightmare because he would have a much larger cavalry by then.

No doubt part of that cavalry would contain innocent, untainted lives, forced to fight without any training or preparation whatsoever.

He felt something bump into his foot again—there, again, was the toy car, ramming into him one, two, now three times, as if trying to capture his attention. He looked around the room, spotting the telltale pink in the corner, behind a potted plant. Kirby slowly emerged from behind, with a sly grin on his face—one that told that he had successfully executed his plan. Though, what it was exactly, Meta Knight couldn’t even begin to imagine.

Kirby giggled again and scampered up to his mentor, clumsily taking the car, which was a little too big for his paws. Suddenly losing attention, he set the car and its remote down, then looked up at his mentor. “Me… Meeeir,” he said, with some difficulty. This caught Meta Knight’s attention. It wasn’t often that the child used his real name, but when he did, Kirby was being serious. The little one opened his mouth again, but hesitated, his lips closing and forming a frown. “Mmmm...”

Meta Knight knelt at Kirby’s feet, setting his hand on the child’s shoulder. “What is it, little one?”

He glanced up at Meta Knight for a split second, then down to his feet, wringing his hands together as if shy. Finally, he managed to get out, “...Meir, sing?”

Meta Knight broke his gaze from Kirby at this, giving a hesitant sigh through his teeth. In the past, Meta Knight often sang to the child, either to lull him to sleep, or to soothe him after a nightmare. He didn’t have the best singing voice, but Kirby didn’t seem to care about that at all. In fact, he enjoyed it—the heartwarming smiles told so and more. The problem was, Meta Knight couldn’t remember the last time he sang; no doubt that his singing voice had deteriorated since then. Not only that, but… he felt rather uncomfortable singing around his new neighbors. To them, he appeared to be a stoic, battle-hardened knight; not a mushy parent that sang to their kids and told them bedtime stories. If someone, anyone, even a waddle dee heard him sing, he wouldn’t be able to sleep at night due to embarrassment.

If anything, now was a perfect time to show that not only was he a stoic night, but also to take the first step in preparing for battle against Nightmare. Now that Kirby was fully healed, he could start training the child again. He himself probably needed it too; it’s been a while since he had a good training session.

Looking back at Kirby, he firmly said, “Not today, I’m afraid… We have something much more important to do. Come.”

He could hear Kirby groan in protest as he turned around to leave, but kept walking, knowing Kirby would follow him eventually.

They would take it easy, Meta Knight decided. He didn’t want to take Kirby’s liberties away all at once. Slowly, they’d get back into the groove.

* * *

“ _Move it! Move your sorry asses, dangit!_ ”

Dedede’s jaw dropped to the floor as he witnessed Daroach knock a young waddle dee into the wall, then leave without so much as an apology. In fact it seemed as if he didn’t have any regret about it.

No. This wasn’t Daroach. This must all be a bad dream, it had to be…

As much as he would have liked that to be the case, it wasn’t, and the evidence of that was right in front of him. What in all of the world would possess him to do such a thing? He only ever got violent if the safety of his home or his friends were compromised, or if he had to chase down a fleeing criminal. Neither of those were the case here.

He would have to figure out this mess later… Before all of the waddle dees could freak out as they usually did when one of their brethren was hurt, King Dedede went over to the waddle dee and looked them over. They looked to be quite shaken, but they had sustained no life-threatening injuries from that assault. Thank the stars…

Dedede sighed and put a hand on his pounding heart. The waddle dees had been at Castle Dedede had been there for so long that they went largely unnoticed nowadays. Still, Dedede thought of them as family. They were so loyal that they did almost everything for him without question, no matter how bizarre that request may be. That, and they were always there to keep him company if he found himself to be lonely... To imagine a world without them… He couldn’t. He didn’t know what he would do.

Something had clearly happened to Daroach… to make such a 180-degree turn like this… He couldn’t put this off any longer; he _needed_ to confront him. But… why was he so _scared_ just _thinking_ about doing it?! It should be simple enough; just go in, ask a few questions and figure out what to do from there… Right?

_What if this is more complicated than I thought it would be?_

Now _that_ was a scary thought. There was a great possibility that his friend’s issues were caused by something out of his control… Dedede would feel immensely guilty. He didn’t want that _at all_.

All these questions were doing nothing except for scaring him, effectively holding him back longer. He’d have to swallow the nervous lump in his throat and get the answers himself.

* * *

“Daroach! Open this door now!” Dedede yelled, banging on his friend’s door. “I’ll knock it down if I have to!”

“ _Leave me alone!_ ”

“No, I will not! You’ve been acting out of the ordinary for the past week! In fact, you nearly hurt one of my poor waddle dees! He’s fine, but lucky for you it could have been _way_ worse! What made you even think that that was a good idea!?”

“ _You don’t understand!_ ”

Dedede blew the door down with a giant swing of his hammer. He burst into the room, finding Daroach at the edge of the bedroom. He was… trembling. But why? “You’re right, I don’t understand. But I will if you just tell me what’s wrong.”

Daroach whipped around, his gaze so piercing and furious that it made Dedede’s blood run cold. “No, _you will never understand!_ ” he screamed. His breath was ragged, like he was on the verge of tears. Dedede had only once seen his friend so filled with grief that it made him angry…

It was the day Donatella was killed… He thought that by now his friend would be over this... if this was indeed the reason for his behavior, Dedede would need to tread this situation carefully. “Daroach, listen. I know you’re upset, but—“

“Shut up!” Daroach yelled. It was only now that Dedede saw… The mouse’s eyes were _red…_

Something was definitely off. Dedede didn’t know much about the biology of mice, but he was pretty sure their eyes weren’t supposed to change color like that. That, and his unnatural behavior, was it possible that… it wasn’t him?

But before he could question it any further, something struck him on his forehead. He slumped to the ground, suddenly feeling cold and exhausted.

* * *

The air was sticky: the moisture hung so thick in the atmosphere that it felt as if it could be cut with a knife. Definitely less than favorable training conditions, but Star Warriors needed to be prepared for battle in any type of weather. And Meta Knight wasn’t about to put this training off for any longer.

The two puffballs had warmed up with a few simple stretches and exercises, including some laps around the courtyard. They could already feel the heat getting to them, unfortunately, and were by now drenched in sweat, their lungs about ready to burst. At this point they would take a breather, get a drink, then resume training when they felt they were ready again. They continued this process for the following two weeks, and Kirby’s endurance gradually amounted up to what it used to be, back when he traveled with the GSA. Meta Knight also had started flying again, now that his wings had finally healed up. He had to admit, he missed the feel of the wind in his face.

By the end of those two weeks, though, the weather had made no easily noticeable change—it was just as muggy as it was when they started, and it showed no sign of letting up—it was like Dream Land was trapped in a bubble of humidity. Meta Knight knew this was because Planet Popstar had very fickle weather patterns; either average temperatures would fluctuate more than twenty times within the course of a week, or a long period of extreme weather would bog down on the land. It was unpredictable.

Meta Knight was hoping it would clear up by now – partly because he had forgotten how fresh air feels like, but that wasn’t important – because the next training exercise would be the start of the most crucial part of Kirby’s training—and that was combat.

But right now Kirby was being the usual distracted child he was. He had found a pretty red butterfly to chase around the courtyard – how it was surviving in this heat, Meta Knight had no idea – and couldn’t help but contain his curiosity. Usually a loud shout was sufficient enough to catch the child’s attention, but it seemed he had to do it more than once for it to be effective this time.

“Kirby...Kirby!”

Kirby visibly jumped, clearly not expecting his mentor to raise his voice like that. Obediently he went up to Meta Knight and did an adorable little salute, but not without sadly gazing back at the butterfly he had found.

“There’s no time for fun and games today. What we’re about to do is very important, so I want you to focus.”

Kirby nodded, keeping eye contact with his mentor. Meta Knight kept a stern gaze at Kirby as he continued: “You’ve made excellent progress this month, and I think you’re ready for the next step. I challenge you… to a friendly duel.”

Kirby’s eyes widened, and he stepped back, seized with fear. “N-n-no fight, poyo,” he whimpered, waving his paws around in protest.

Meta Knight’s gaze softened, and he looked at Kirby, confused. It took him a moment to process that Kirby didn’t want to fight probably because he didn’t want his mentor and dearest friend to get hurt. He chuckled and said, “I’ll be fine, little one. Think of this as an opportunity to sharpen our skills. In fact, I probably need it too...”

Kirby seemed to be barely comforted by that statement, but managed to nod in spite of himself. Meta Knight made note of this as positioned himself on one side of the courtyard, and Kirby – getting the idea, thankfully – went to the other. They got into a battle stance – one foot forward, one hand to the chest, and the other extended behind. The position was almost instinctual, despite it being so long since either have done so—it was just something that had stuck with them after all these years.

One part of Meta Knight was scared to death. It had been too long since he had a training session – with a serious partner, at least – and he had a dreadful feeling in his gut that his fighting skills might have rusted since then. Definitely not good considering the fate of the universe was, in a way, on his shoulders.

The other half of him was excited beyond measure. He missed the raw thrill, and the fast-paced action that battle brought. Cutting through hordes of Demon Beasts and laying waste to the battlefield, alongside a trusted ally—it sent adrenaline coursing through him. At the same time though, Meta Knight _hated_ battle… The war was the one thing that took his friends away from him. He really didn’t want to go back, but he had no choice… The one thing he needed to ensure was that he didn’t draw any residents of the castle or Dream Land itself into this. This was his and Kirby’s business. He didn’t want anyone else to be harmed.

Kirby looked to be experiencing some similar feelings. He looked quite nervous and his little body was shaking like a leaf. But he looked more scared than anything.

“Kirby, I know. It’s been a very long time. That’s why I want to take it easy. I don’t expect you to perform flawlessly, and frankly, I can say the same for myself. But, I need you to relax. It’s never good to fight with an unsteady heart.” Meta Knight pulled a small white blade from his cape—it was Kirby’s favorite, one that he had saved all this time. He tossed it over to Kirby, hoping the site of his favorite weapon would calm his nerves. Disappointingly Kirby only gasped and stepped back a little.

“Kirby. It’s okay. Just breathe.”

Kirby stared at the blade on the ground and took his mentor’s advice, taking long, steady breaths. A cool breeze swept through the courtyard, taking edge off the heat a little bit. The trees rustled and a handful of leaves were blown into the air. The sound, Kirby found, was oddly soothing, and he closed his eyes, sighing. He continued his rhythmic, steady breathing.

“I always found it easier to relax if I thought of the things I like. It’s great practice for getting into meditation, which clears the mind, calming it. Try it.”

Kirby nodded, putting all his other thoughts aside. The first thing that popped into his head was the butterfly from earlier.

_He imagined chasing after it as it flitted about in the meadows, the wind in its wings allowing it to perform graceful twirls and somersaults in the air to escape Kirby’s grasp. Eventually it gave up and hovered around his head, alighting gently on his nose and spreading out its wings to show off their beautiful detail._

Meta Knight could tell it was working. Kirby’s breathing had slowed significantly and he had stopped shaking, his body having drooped in a relaxed position. Funnily enough, Kirby seemed to have calmed down so much that he was mistaken for a resting place by that butterfly.

_The insect’s wings brushed against Kirby’s face. Kirby, being ticklish, giggled and batted it gingerly away. Surprisingly it refused to leave him even after that, continuing to hover around him. But that was okay with Kirby. He could stare at it all day, watching its pretty wings go up and down…_

“ _Kirby!”_

_Was it… talking to him…?_

“ _Kirby!”_

_It was… and its voice was strangely familiar._

“ _You can do this Kirby. Don’t listen to Fear’s lies… You can conquer every mountain in your way, with time and patience… You are stronger than you think. Go show em’ what you’re made of.”_

His blue eyes shot open, and he lurched forward, opening his mouth wide and inhaling with tremendous strength. The sword was pulled from its resting spot, and the trees were at his mercy, their branches bending towards his pull. The sword and leaves spiraled into his mouth, and Kirby stopped, pushed back by recoil. Then, he shone in a blinding white light. This was Kirby’s Copy Ability at play: he would absorb an object, then use its properties at a fighting element. The transformation took a while, but only because Kirby was still young. As he got older, he would be able to copy things more quickly.

Kirby shuddered for a bit and suddenly paled, to Meta Knight’s shock. He rushed to Kirby’s side as he slumped to the ground, calling out to him—but he got no response… Kirby just sat there, eyes half closed in some sort of trance. Meta Knight shook him a bit to arouse him, but received the same result.

He escalated into a panic at this point, his eyes darting around the courtyard for some sort of help—but that’s when he heard Kirby starting to stir. It was an odd noise, like a groan of discomfort. Looking back at him, Meta Knight noticed his eyes were now shut tight and his brow was knitted in pain. Was he perhaps… mentally fighting with something?

* * *

_Two bright lights bounced around in his head. They were disorienting to look at, and they gave Kirby a headache. Wait… This was his mind! Surely he should have control over… whatever this is. These lights had no authority to bother him!_

_Now how to stop them… This was all in his head, maybe he could… wish for them to stop. It was a crazy idea, but hey, it could work._

_So he wished… deep in his heart, he wished as hard as he could, for the lights to stop and for his mind to be at peace. The lights’ speed slowly decreased. It was working!_

_He shut out all other distractions and thoughts and wished harder. The desire formed deep within him, and he expressed it as much as he could. It reached through his mind, overwhelming his other feelings._

_As if they had run into a pool of molasses, they tremendously slowed and finally came to a stop. Now they were just two big spots of light, floating around in his head. But something about them still bothered him… They were just distracting. Both called for Kirby’s attention, and he couldn’t focus on just one… Wait… That’s it! He could turn the lights into one!_

_He wished for the two lights to join together. They approached each other quickly, but slowed down the closer they got. They were very, very close, but they weren’t touching. They were like two aggressive dogs engaged in a fierce fight: they didn’t want to join together._

_This wouldn’t do._

_They had to fuse together. They needed to. Together, they would be brighter. Stronger. They would have the ability to do great things that couldn’t be achieved alone._

_Kirby wished even more. The desire went beyond the reaches of his mind. It flowed through his body. He willed for the lights to combine._

_Finally, they touched, sending a jolt of power through him; a power he had never felt before. He wanted more of it. It made him feel strong and brave._

_They had to be together._

_They were meant to be together._

_Hand in hand._

_Brother and sister._

_Husband and wife._

_The barrier between them broke, and the lights delved into each other, filling him with that incredible power._

 

Kirby’s eyes suddenly open and he gasped, scaring Meta Knight to death. He looked shell-shocked as he took in huge gulps of air and shivered like jelly. But before Meta Knight could get a chance to comfort him he sprung up into the air and glowed a blinding white.

A green gem appeared on Kirby’s forehead, and from it sprouted a bushy crown of leaves. Kirby held a small branch, which bloomed and grew a long, singular leaf.

The white slowly faded. And Kirby landed soundly on the ground, still panting heavily from what was seemingly shock. He looked like a forest dweller, his only resources being the nature around him. Kirby gradually calmed down and became aware of his sudden transformation.

“Kirby… you made a Copy Ability Fusion...” said Meta Knight, surprised. A fusion took two different Copy Abilities, and combined them. In this case it was leaf – which utilized the power of nature to attack – and Sword (Which was just like how it sounded on the cover—the weapon was a sword). Usually, time and practice was needed just to achieve a Fusion by oneself—but Kirby had done it in just one try!

Kirby was admiring his new weapon, eyes filled with excitement. “Mena, look!”

Meta Knight chuckled, relieved that Kirby was okay. “Yes, I see, little one. Do you think your leaf sword can stand against mine, however?” He threw his cape off of himself, and his bat wings fanned out behind him. He drew Galaxia, and with bolts of lightning, it came into existence. He allowed the energy of the blade to flow through him, and found that it seemed… to have more than normal. Even the ruby in its hilt glowed a bit. Was it… excited, perhaps?

_It has been a very long time, Meir. Shall we have some fun?_

Yes, it was excited. The spirit within barely spoke to him, only speaking when Meta Knight desired some words of wisdom or solace. Even rarer cases was when it was overwhelmingly happy—like now.

_Yes, we shall._

“Kirby! Come at me with all you’ve got!”

The child charged with surprising speed. Meta Knight waited for the right moment, and…

_Clang!_

Kirby blocked the attack just in time. He looked surprised. “Hm, your leaf blade is much stronger than I imagined. It might as well be steel.”

Meta Knight jumped over Kirby’s head, then knocked him sideways with the flat of his blade. Kirby tumbled for a few feet but managed to stop on his feet. He looked back at his mentor in determination, gave a cute battle cry, then charged again. Meta Knight waited for the right moment again, and swiped…

To his surprise, Kirby dodged the attack by _backflipping_. And in the heat of the moment, Meta Knight saw something…

_Her purple ponytail flicked upwards, her euphoric giggles bouncing off the walls. “Too slow, soldier!”_

“Garlude,” Meta Knight muttered under his breath. What a time to be thinking of his old friend. Kirby took the moment of distraction in his favor and thrusted his sword forward. It ran off the surface of Meta Knight’s mask, but the attack was done with enough force to push him back.

“ _What’s wrong?”_ _she asked with another giggle. “Can’t bring yourself to hurt a lady?”_

Her purple eyes turned into Kirby’s blue ones, which met Meta Knight’s amber gaze, taunting him. Meta Knight growled and lept at Kirby, who jumped to the side. Kirby slashed his sword at the air, summoning leaves. Another swipe and the leaves homed in on Meta Knight and flew at him, with deadly speed and accuracy. Meta Knight slashed blindly at the air, blocking the organic projectiles. One managed to get past his sword and scratched his side. It stung him badly; who knew leaves could hurt this much?

 _He’s retained his power all these years,_ Galaxia commented, sensing Meta Knight’s pain. _Don’t underestimate him._

_I don’t, but…_

Meta Knight looked into Kirby’s eyes, and through that wall of determination… he could still see that innocence, that pure, untainted naivety.

_I don’t want to hurt him… I already came too close by putting him in that spaceship._

Meta Knight lunged at Kirby again, landing a purposefully softer blow on the kid’s cheek. Kirby yelped, shook off the pain, and swiped at Meta Knight. The latter parried the attack.

Meta Knight pushed Kirby off. He could see the child’s strength and determination through each swipe and attack; it was powerful. It only showed more and more as they danced across the grass, exchanging attacks. Still, Meta Knight was gradually finding the upper hand, as Kirby was getting sluggish. “Kirby, too slow!”

“ _Too slow Meir!” she prattled, feet pattering across the moonlit floors of the ancient cathedral. “You must be swift, but you must also be careful!”_

Meta Knight found himself repeating the advice, with something extra. “You must be swift, but you must also be careful! Become one with the blade. Channel your strength into it...”

Meta Knight flapped his wings powerfully, and he was in the air. Galaxia glowed with energy. Meta Knight slashed downwards, sending a white beam of energy soaring towards Kirby. He was bruised by it as he tried to get away from the beam, which was so powerful it created a deep gash in the landscape. Meta Knight landed, and when the dust settled, he turned to Kirby, finishing, “And you can accomplish incredible things.”

Kirby got on his feet, eyes wide with wonder. He had seen his mentor use the Sword Beam many times in battle before, and it proved to be a fatal attack. Kirby himself had tried to do it before, but he could only manage to produce weaker versions of it… perhaps he should try to follow his mentor’s advice and ‘become one with the blade’? Would that also help him get faster?

Kirby twirled his blade like a baton, then got back into the fight, charging once more at Meta Knight. He gripped the hilt of his weapon tighter than before, and tried to force more and more energy into his attacks. Meta Knight only held his sword in front of him, blocking all of Kirby’s strikes.

Kirby’s leaf sword was glowing faintly, but nothing else was happening. And Kirby was getting angry.

“Kirby! _Kirby!_ ” Meta Knight yelled, but he get no response from his enraged student.

“ _Meir! Calm yourself! Getting angry will only cloud your judgment, and disconnect you from your blade.” She parried another one of his blind jabs, then out of nowhere hopped to his side and struck hard. “You will be blinded by anger, and fail to see your enemy’s plan.”_

Meta Knight wanted to repeat what his old training partner had said, but he knew Kirby wouldn’t listen at the moment. With a sigh, he replicated Garlude’s actions and flanked Kirby, sending the child flying and crashing into the ditch from earlier. He trotted to the edge of it, rising above Kirby, and then repeated his friend’s spiel. “Calm yourself. Getting angry will only cloud your judgment, and—“

Meta Knight just barely dodged a small white beam that was clearly aimed for his face. Kirby was glaring daggers at him. “An improvement,” he commented, “but like I said, tone the anger down… you won’t be able to do that again if you’re angry. Emotion disconnects you from the blade, and blinds you from your opponent’s plan.”

Kirby leaped out of the crater, yelled, and surprised Meta Knight with another new attack—Kirby pulled a _vine_ out of nowhere, and just like a lasso, threw it towards Meta Knight. It wrapped around his wing, rendering flight impossible. Kirby landed behind him and tugged on the vine with all his might. “Gimmicks are okay...” he began, as he grabbed a hold of the vine. “But are not something to be relied on constantly. They take up a lot of energy, and should be saved for when you’re in a pinch, or about to finish off your opponent.” Meta Knight pulled upwards on the vine, sweeping Kirby off of his feet, and smashed him into the ground a few feet away. He smirked a bit and raised his blade, ready to take this window of opportunity to attack again.

 _Don’t get cocky, Meir. I thought you didn’t want to hurt the child?_ Galaxia said, always the voice of concern.

_I… Oh no… what have I done…_

Meta Knight gasped and dropped his sword, holding his head in his hands. _I… didn’t mean to…! Oh my gosh, I_ _hurt the poor child_ _..._

Kirby, bruised and battered, was still hanging onto his last thread of will. Shakily he stood up with his weapon in hand, looking straight at Meta Knight with an expression that could only be described as pure determination.

_It’s okay Meir. You may not want to do it, but it’s necessary. Look, he’s waiting for you. He’s expecting that his mentor will give his all, and not hold back anything. Don’t let the Child down. He’s counting on you._

How Galaxia was communicating with him without him even holding it, he didn’t know, but it didn’t matter. It was right. He needed to do the right thing for Kirby. Though he didn’t like it, some pain was necessary in order for Kirby to grow, and to learn.

Meta Knight scooped up his sword, then took to the skies again. He flapped his wings in a rhythmic motion, twirling and spinning in the air. He picked up speed, drawing in the air around him. The dust on the ground swirled beneath him, getting caught up in the winds he produced.

Meta Knight never imagined that he’d use this move in training again, yet here he was. Mach Tornado was a tricky move to master; it required a lot of practice to spin fast enough, pick up winds and create a literal tornado—all without getting dizzy. Meta Knight, though had so much experience with it he could call it his signature move at this point. The only reason why he didn’t use it in training much was because it was deadly, and hard to dodge. He used it for this reason, though—he wanted to keep Kirby’s reaction time in check. He planned to swerve off at the last second if Kirby didn’t get out of the way in time.

He decided that he was spinning fast enough when he could barely see through the vortex of dust his tornado had created: he charged at Kirby, who looked absolutely terrified. Meta Knight was at least expecting Kirby to do something at this point, anything, but…

Kirby suddenly jumped off to the side. Meta Knight’s tornado turned around in a semicircular motion, picking up clumps of grass and dirt as he prepared to aim at Kirby again. But to his surprise, Kirby had jumped up into the air, up to his level. What was the child planning…?

Kirby aimed his sword skyward, the leaf blade glittering in the sunlight. The leaves came off of the trees of the courtyard, surrounding Kirby in clusters. Gradually, they started moving, orbiting around Kirby in circular movements. He was creating a tornado of his own to counter Meta Knight’s. Clever boy.

Then, they charged. Like knights in a jousting match, they sped at each other in their tornadoes, not swayed by the outcome. The two cyclones collided, creating shockwaves. They fought against each other, shifting back and forth in a fierce tug-of-war. Eventually, neither could hold it anymore, and the tornadoes burst into a messy explosion of dirt, grass and leaves. Meta Knight landed on his feet, coughing from the dust. It was so thick in the courtyard that he could no longer see.

“Kirby, ah, Kirby! Where are you!”

His only response was a weak cough. He followed the sound through the dust, frustrated at himself. He had gone too far… Kirby must be seriously hurt after all this. He didn’t know if he could find it within him to forgive himself…

_Out of breath, they rested on the tiled floor, admiring the large evening moon, and the way it cast fleeting shadows of dead trees and crumbling pillars across the floor and walls. “I could look at this all day,” Meta Knight said, as he held a sleeping baby in his arms._

“ _Then you have to be willing to fight.” He looked into Garlude’s eyes. She was dead serious. “You want to keep your home safe, you want to keep me safe, you want to keep Kirby safe, then you have to be willing to risk it all. Kirby, too, will have to learn that when he gets older. A true warrior will lay his life down for another, for the sake of love and peace.”_

Meta Knight felt a lump form in his throat… No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t let go of the memories of pain and bloodshed. That time in the beautiful, ancient cathedral, that was the last time he and Garlude had spent some quality time together… Little did they both know that Garlude would live up to her words the very next day, sacrificing herself so Meta Knight could take home the legendary sword Galaxia…

He threw the blade to the ground, and fell to his knees, screaming in anger. The sword—it wasn’t worth it… no power that any weapon could bring was worth the life of his friend.

_Meir. We’ve been through this before. It’s what she wanted you to do. You couldn’t let her down, no more than Kirby._

“I don’t care! She’s gone now, because of me!”

_With me however, you made sure her sacrifice wasn’t in vain. Demon Beasts such as Wolfwrath and Masher tremble at the sight of you. You’ve silenced the jaws of Landia, you’ve pierced the eye of many a Dark Matter, and you’ve ended the Iron Mams’ revolt. You’ve given honor to her name._

“It won’t bring her back!”

_Meir, this is your problem. You have to learn to forgive yourself. It is unfortunate, but you can’t do anything to bring her back. What you need to do is let. It. Go._

Meta Knight couldn’t come up with a response, except for a scream. He knew his sword was right… but he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t save Garlude, and he hurt Kirby… He was a horrible, pathetic person.

_You won’t be able to forgive yourself right away. I don’t expect you to. You are not a terrible person. The past is in the past. Learn from it, and accept your new responsibilities. Look, the Child is waiting for you._

“Mena…?”

The dust had settled, and Meta Knight saw Kirby. His eyes were immediately drawn to the bruises and scrapes all over his body, and his heart broke from guilt at the sight. The child was barely holding on, swaying hazardously, looking as if he might collapse at a moment’s notice… But, out of concern for his mentor, he stood strong.

Meta Knight ran to Kirby’s side, catching his student just as he fell over. “Meir… okay?” he said in a whisper, half-lidded eyes full of worry.

“I’m okay, Kirby… Are you okay? I’m so sorry that I hurt you...”

Kirby managed a weak smile, and nodded a bit. “Yeah… had fun!”

“Fun…?” Meta Knight’s eyes glowed a bright blue. “You… had fun...”

The injuries sustained, no doubt, were painful, but the fact that Kirby had dismissed that and instead focused on the experience itself, all to get stronger… it filled Meta Knight with an inexplicable pride and joy, to the point where he couldn’t contain his excitement.

He suddenly lifted Kirby upwards, swinging the child around in circles as they both laughed. “Oh, I’m so proud of you! You fought so hard and strong… Just keep going Kirby. You’ll master that Sword Beam, I promise.” He lowered Kirby and brought him into a hug.

Meta Knight looked up for just a second, and he saw the mess he and Kirby had made of the courtyard… His eyes shifted from blue to a bright pink. “Oh man, Dedede’s going to be so mad at us,” he said, hysterically chuckling. He turned Kirby around to show him the damage. “There’s holes everywhere, a bunch of leaves, and— _did that tree fall over?! It did!_ ”

Kirby laughed too, and they all but forgot their worries from before, as they found more and more damage to laugh about. No doubt King Dedede would be furious, but they may as well have fun while they can.

“ _Hey!_ ”

The two puffballs froze in their tracks. There was Dedede, looming above them, holding his hammer in a threatening manner. He was fuming.

Meta Knight protectively got in front of Kirby. He was expecting Dedede to be angry, but not _this_ much… the king looked like he wanted to kill them for what they did. “Hey, we can explain...”

Dedede didn’t even bother to listen and raised his mallet above his head. Something wasn’t right.

“ _Kirby, run!_ ”

Kirby obeyed and mustered up what little strength he had to get as far away from Dedede as possible. He dared a look back—and saw his mentor dodging Dedede’s rapid fire hammer swings. Why was King Dedede doing this? He seemed like such a caring person… he would never hurt someone over an accident!

Meta Knight didn’t realize that Dedede was backing him into a corner—Kirby needed to warn him, so he could fly up and out of danger, and quickly! He started running back towards his mentor, shouting, “Kni-Kni, Kni-Kni!”

“Kirby, what are you doing?! I told you to get out of here!”

Kirby sobbed a little, only being able to repeat his mentor’s nickname. He couldn’t figure out just how to turn his thoughts into understandable words. His mentor was in danger, and in his position, he couldn’t do a thing. He could only watch on in fear, and pray that his mentor would realize the danger he was in.

Meta Knight bumped into the wall, and held his sword out, blocking Dedede’s next blow. Dedede continued to push down, inching his hammer and Meta Knight’s sword closer to the warrior’s face. Dedede lifted the mallet up and swung again, making Meta Knight lose balance. He wasted no time and brought the hammer down forcefully on top of his head.

Meta Knight’s body went limp, and his eyes dimmed.

“Meenaaa!”

Kirby’s cry attracted Dedede’s attention, and before Kirby even realized what was happening, Dedede jumped over to him, and knocked him out with relative ease.

* * *

A deep migraine was the first thing Kirby felt when he awoke. He moaned quietly and opened his heavy eyelids. Everything was blurry, and spinning… Kirby groaned again, and attempted to sit up, but he found himself unable to do so; he was restrained, by some type of rope. He scrunched his eyes closed and squirmed within his bindings, with the intention to loosen them. He had been trained in the art of escape years ago—he was thankful that he could remember that training.

No matter how hard he thrashed against the ropes, however, they refused to let up even the slightest. Kirby stopped to catch his breath, though even that proved to be hard since the rope covered most of his face. He opened his eyes again, and, his vision now clear, he saw a vast orange sky, streaked with misty clouds. It was the same shade of orange as if the sun was setting. But… something seemed off.

The first thing the offset Kirby was the bright blue dot, about half the size of the sun, that rested high in the sky. It definitely wasn’t the moon, because Dream Land’s moon was never _this_ bright. Then again, it definitely wasn’t Dream Land’s _sun_ either. Dream Land’s sun was big, yellow and warm.

The next thing that set him off was that it was a lot cooler than when he was in the courtyard. It admittedly felt relieving to be out of that humidity, but how did it—

Kirby’s little mind managed to put two and two together—this wasn’t Dream Land at all. He was in a completely different place, maybe even an entirely different planet!

Panicking, he fought harder than before against his prison of rope, writhing like a worm on concrete. He stretched and pushed, muscles bulging as he reached the limits of his strength. The bonds still wrapped tight around his round form. Kirby stopped, chest heaving.

He wasn’t trained to give up. There must be another way.

Kirby sucked his stomach in, making his form slimmer. But to his surprise, the ropes seemed to wrap around him tighter. He tried to return to his normal form, but couldn’t. The ropes were constricting him like a snake.

He couldn’t breathe like this.

His fear now rising to the point of having a nervous meltdown, he struggled again against the bonds. After he managed to get all of his face out from under the ropes, his first instinct was to cry out for help, but even that was beyond him—he found his voice to be gone, nothing more than a pitiful croak. Instead he took in a huge breath, inflating his body, and loosening the ropes just enough to give him some comfortable breathing room. Kirby exhaled, feeling lightheaded. He panted and took steady breaths until his heart rate was back to normal. He was still trapped in the ropes, but at least he could breathe now.

Kirby came to terms with the inevitable. He was trapped here, all alone once again… No! Meta Knight promised him that he would never be alone, no matter what. His mentor was probably lost somewhere in this world, but any moment he would stumble upon Kirby and set him free… right?

So Kirby waited… he eventually got lost in thought, going back to what he last remembered… King Dedede knocked Meta Knight out with his huge hammer. Kirby ended up receiving a blow to the head too… Was Meta Knight he okay? He didn’t… die, did he?

Kirby couldn’t hold back a tear at the thought, but he quickly blinked it off. No! His mentor was strong. That, he was sure of.

Suddenly, a clang of steel rang throughout the air, shaking Kirby down to his core. He rolled onto his side to see what it came from, preparing his inhale in case it was anything dangerous… It certainly wasn’t anything he expected.

Two swords glimmered under the blue light, their wielders circling around each other in a meticulous, yet beautiful dance. Their attacks and parries were identical, as if they were able to read each others’ minds. Their swords clashed again, and interlocked for just enough time for Kirby to identify the battlers.

One was Meta Knight. And he happened to look to the side just for a fraction of a second, making eye contact with Kirby.

“Kirby?”

The other one took the moment of distraction and attempted to slash at the part of Meta Knight’s face that was exposed. Meta Knight was barely able to block in time, and he lost his balance, forcing him to take a few steps back. The two fighters almost instantly resumed their cycle of swipes and parries, as Meta Knight struggled to call out to Kirby. “H-hang in, ng, there, Kirby, I—ah! I’ll be there to help, just after I—mmph! Right after I deal with my impersonator here!”

‘Impersonator’, as Kirby quickly discovered, was probably the best description for Meta Knight’s opponent. They bore an exact, uncanny resemblance, save for their clothing having different colors. Instead of a deep navy blue, their cape, which was terribly torn and frayed at the edges, was an ashy gray. They wore red armored shoes instead of purple, and their skin was a dark gray. What was most intriguing was the gash in their mask, around their left eye. Kirby shuddered as he thought of the creature capable of inflicting that damage. But, the impersonator’s eyes… they were a deep, eerie red that blazed with destructive fury. Kirby had never seen such hatred, such anger in someone’s eyes before, not even a demon beast.

“Shut up! You are a threat to this land, and my master! I will destroy you!” he yelled, before charging at Meta Knight.

The two swords met each other once again, catching each other with the spikes protruding from the sharp edge of their blades. Kirby could see their hands shaking as they struggled to keep their swords in hand. Meta Knight and his opponent stared each other down with a piercing gaze, taunting each other to just let go. Kirby knew one of them was bound to break eventually, and he prayed that it wouldn’t be his mentor…

The bad one lunged forward, and Meta Knight lost Galaxia. He fell over and hit the ground hard, and his golden sword soared through the air, and landed in the dirt nearby, the hilt pointing to the sky. The bad one lifted up Meta Knight by the arm, and spat in his face, “When will you learn that _I_ am the superior one, and that you will _never_ amount to what I have done? You are weak, worthless excuse of a warrior! You are _nothing!_ ”

The bad Meta Knight kicked the good one in the face, then walked up to a mirror (When did that get here?) then, to Kirby’s horror, _shoved Meta Knight into it._ Meta Knight slipped through the surface like it was liquid.

The bad one shattered the glass, and _Meta Knight_ along with it.

“Meennaaaa!” Kirby shrieked, watching as shards of his mentor fell from the mirror to the ground. Was Meta Knight… dead? It couldn’t be… Meta Knight had taken down some of the strongest demon beasts in the war, only to fall to the hands of this terrible, hateful impersonator?!

The empty mirror frame careened to the dirt, and the shards turned into orbs of light, flying off into different directions. Kirby wouldn’t accept it despite all the evidence that it was true. His mentor couldn’t be dead. He was crying hard, his tears pooling in the dirt.

The bad Meta Knight turned around and looked at him. He still had that murderous look in his eyes that pierced straight into Kirby’s soul. The child took in a sharp breath and bawled some more as he struggled to scoot as far away from the bad Meta Knight as possible, scared that he might get killed too.

Kirby watched the bad Meta Knight walk up to Galaxia. He was going to use Meta Knight’s own sword to kill him. That seemed just like the thing a monster like him would do.

The second the tip of his glove brushed against the sword, however, the bad Meta Knight was shocked with a huge current of electricity. He screamed and convulsed, bolts and sparks coming off of him in waves. Finally he managed to pull away, and now, black and charred, he fell to his knees on the ground and struggled for air.

Kirby watched silently, although tears still dripped down in rivulets. The bad one only looked at Kirby with a decreased amount of hatred in his eyes, before growling and kicking the dirt in frustration. He went to a different mirror, and lept through it, disappearing. After a second, the mirror seemed to loose some of its sheen.

Everything was silent again. And Kirby was left by himself. For good.

He cried, just as he had cried when he was trapped in his starship, floating through the cosmos. He was right back where he started, and this time, no one would be there to help.

Kirby cried and sobbed for hours, until his throat started hurting and his face felt all puffy. But he didn’t care… He just wanted Meta Knight back. He wanted to run into the welcoming arms of his mentor, and get wrapped up in a warm, comforting hug as he listened to his mentor’s reassuring voice tell him that everything will be okay…

Memories of his time in the war flashed through his mind—mostly good ones, but some unpleasant ones too… He saw Meta Knight and himself chasing each other in grassy landscapes, resting in their cozy little tents with a sky full of stars above their heads, doing intense training… traversing weird, yet wonderful worlds… And just… being… together…

* * *

_What do you mean I won’t be able to speak to him?! You saw him; he needs me now more than ever!_

_**Perhaps you didn’t hear me correctly: you and I are not the same. As it is, you do not have the ability to communicate through this vessel… not until you die, at least.** _

_CURSE YO–_

_**Do NOT speak to me like that, or I’ll be forced to remove your… privileges.** _

_...I’m sorry. I’ve had a bad day._

_**I can tell.** _

_If you ever get the chance, however, could you at least… tell him how much I miss him…? How much… I love him?_

_**...Why ask? You know I’d do anything for you two.** _

* * *

Kirby was awakened by an irritating noise. A clanging, rustling sound, like someone cut cymbals into little pieces, put them in a bag, then shook the bag erratically.

The sound stopped. Kirby just ignored it and tried to go back to sleep, waiting for his inevitable execution.

It came back again, louder, and more irritating this time. Then, again, it stopped. But this time, Kirby heard something else… a soft, cooing chirp, like a baby in awe at something.

Seeing that he wouldn’t be getting the sleep he desired anytime soon, Kirby cracked his eyelids open just a smidgen, enough for him to observe that the sky had considerably darkened. It was safe to assume that he had slept well into the night.

But then—a sudden sparkle. It disappeared just as quickly as it appeared—like a firefly, lighting itself to quickly show itself to the world, then fleeing into the darkness as if it wasn’t even there at all.

Fireflies… Kirby remembered chasing some with Meta Knight on a different planet years before. Did everything exist just to remind him of better days, when he always had his mentor by his side? To torture him, fully knowing that he’d never spend a day like that ever again?

Another sound. And Kirby nearly thought he was dreaming because of it—it was a “Poyo”, just as soft, gentle and sweet as his own. Wouldn’t it be nice if this was a dream? What if he was still at the castle, and all this was a bad nightmare?

Kirby wasn’t foolish enough to believe that. Not when the ropes that held him hostage felt like sandpaper to his sensitive skin, and the bitter cold of the night numbed his muscles and made his breath come out in misty wisps. All this pain—it all felt too real to be an illusion.

Kirby fully opened his eyes. He saw something moving in the shadows—at the moment it was too dark to make out what it was, but Kirby’s heart started pounding regardless. There was a chance that it could be that bad Meta Knight.

It turned around, and started coming into the moonlight. Kirby braced himself—but an attack never came… just silence.

And that figure was most definitely _not_ the bad Meta Knight.

It was as if Kirby was looking into a mirror—the person who stood before him looked exactly like himself, except for their color. They were gray, their feet a couple of tones darker, and their eyes were pitch-black. It was a little creepy. But what was with this world and its dark-colored impersonators?!

Something shiny was in their hands, and it didn’t take long for Kirby to notice that it was a broken shard of glass, much like the ones from the mirror Meta Knight had been trapped in. For a few minutes, they didn’t do anything; they just stood there, aghast and mouth slightly agape.

“Poyo?”

Bad mistake. They slowly, painfully approached, the shard held out in front of him. So this is how Kirby was to be killed, then? Was his own impersonator an underling of the bad Meta Knight, given orders to torture him to death?

This seemed to be it.

Kirby braced himself once again, whimpering and dreading the painful moment the glass would break through his skin… That didn’t come, either. Instead, he heard a tearing noise, then the ropes around him loosened. Kirby hissed in pain a bit when his scraped skin was exposed to the chilly air.

He was free.

He still felt sore and tired from the rigorous training with Meta Knight earlier, so he took his time in getting onto his feet, any faster and searing pain would’ve shot through him. Kirby then tried to thank his rescuer, but they had disappeared—and that annoying clanging noise could be heard again.

They had gone back into the shadows, as if saving Kirby was no more of a good deed and they had better things to do. Kirby couldn’t contain himself; he had so many questions: like, where was he, who was his “twin,” and why was all of this happening?...Why was Meta Knight trapped into a mirror which was then shattered? He hoped his rescuer could provide some info.

He walked over, slowly, to the gray puffball. Suddenly they held out a glass shard – the same one from before, to be exact – and waited, expectantly. Was he supposed to take it?

“Help,” they said. They had a high-pitched voice, but anyone that heard it could easily tell that they were a male; he was also no doubt one of Kirby’s own species. Back in the war, the GSA had many puffballs in its rankings, but never any extremely young ones like Kirby himself. He always wondered what it would be like to meet another puffball as young as him. Would they have they same personality? Would they have copy abilities? Would they have a monstrous appetite like himself?

Kirby would have to ask all these questions later—the puffball needed help, and in the war, Kirby was taught to help first, then question later. He nodded, then grabbed the piece of glass. “How?”

They pulled something onto their back—a cloth sack, with a surface that looked jagged and bumpy. It appeared to be filled with many other glass shards, so when the gray puffball picked it up, the shards bumped into each other, making a clanging noise. So that’s what was making that noise, but what was all this glass for?

The gray puffball wandered into the dark, and Kirby quickly followed, not wanting to get lost. The sound of the glass shaking in the bag led Kirby underneath the dim moonlight, as howling beasts and noisy critters prowled in the shadows. Kirby shivered and picked up the pace. There was no denying it; this place was scary, and Kirby could sure use a hug right about now. But he had to be brave to help a fellow puffball. He was sure that was what Meta Knight would want him to do, regardless of the situation.

The clanging stopped, and so did Kirby. The gray puffball put his sack down and pulled a few pieces of glass out. “Here,” he said, pointing at the ground with the shards. Kirby walked up to the spot, expecting to find something interesting…

And he did! It was an empty mirror frame that looked similar to the one Meta Knight was trapped in (After the glass was shattered). Except the frame his mentor had been trapped in looked much prettier than this one—it had wings, while this one didn’t. Instead it had bumps and was formed in an odd, uneven shape. The gray puffball examined the glass shards he held, and then put them into the frame, right next to each other. The two shards glowed for a moment, then returned to normal—except for the fact that the crack between them had disappeared.

He was rebuilding the mirror.

Kirby put his piece next to the others, and they glowed again, then darkened, the next crack fading. Kirby smiled. It was just like building a puzzle!

It took a whole hour before they had even made a noticeable dent in the amount of shards in the bag. During the time, Kirby had attempted to make small talk with the other puffball. Though that proved to be exceedingly difficult considering they both were very young and hadn’t learned how to speak in full sentences, much less turn their full thoughts into words. But Kirby managed to learn the important bits: his name was Shadow, and his home was in terrible danger (Presumably, it had something to do with the bad Meta Knight.)

Finally, Kirby set the last piece in the mirror. He cheered and ran up to Shadow, taking his paws into his own and jumping up and down happily. Shadow, not as jumpy as Kirby, barely shared his joy, showing only a nervous smile.

The now restored mirror shone brightly, then rose into the air, its source of magic having been restored. Something could be seen inside, slowly coming into existence…

It was extremely blurry at first, but as time passed, their distinctive features became more visible—and they looked a lot like Dedede. Sure enough the lovable tubby king himself fell out of the mirror, his red robes flopping to the ground with him. His giant mallet followed, humorously hammering him on the head. Stars formed in his eyes as he groaned.

After all that he went through however, that was a face Kirby did _not_ want to see. One look at the king and he was reminded of the bloodlust and the hatred in his eyes as he raised his mallet, ready to crush all that he held dear…

He screamed and ran behind Shadow, shivering and crying quietly. Shadow looked back, confused.

Dedede meanwhile dizzily got onto his feet, shaking himself out of his vertigo. He blinked a few times, realizing he was no longer trapped in his glass prison. “I’m… I’m free!” he said, his breathing becoming quick and flighty. He laughed out of relief, and said, “Who saved me?”

Then he saw the two puffballs in front of him and had a double take. They both looked exactly like Kirby! But a second look-over confirmed that only one was Kirby, as the other had a dark gray color. “Kirby? Who’s your friend?”

Kirby didn’t answer, still holding the belief that Dedede was angry and was going to hurt him. Instead he hugged himself and tried to look smaller in attempt to hide. It didn’t help much considering the other puffball wasn’t too good of a hiding place to begin with.

Dedede frowned. He had an idea of what was going on, but he wasn’t quite sure how to handle it. He knelt down and met the gray puffball – who looked quite angry, might he add – at eye level. He lowered his voice to a whisper so as to not frighten him. “Tell me, son,” he said, “What’s your name?”

“Shadow,” said Shadow feebly. Dedede smiled.

“Well, kiddo. My name’s Dedede. _King_ Dedede, but that’s a story for another time.” He sat down. “Now let me explain something. Maybe it will help you understand what’s happening.”

Shadow didn’t look interested in anything he had to say. As he stood protectively in front of Kirby he gave the king a murderous glare that downright asked him what horrible thing he had done to Kirby to make him react this way. Dedede sighed realizing this would take a while.

“So you know about that dark soldier, right? He has dark skin like you, wears a mask and has red eyes...”

Shadow scowled at the memory of that horrible man. “Name Dark,” he said.

“His name’s Dark?” King Dedede asked, and Shadow nodded. “I see… Well, I overheard him and… someone, having a conversation. I don’t know who it was, but Dark referred to him as ‘Master’.

“What I heard next… it was shocking. They’ve formed an alliance with a being called Nightmare, who, in our world, is an absolute tyrant that would not hesitate to take over a planet given the chance.

“Now this is important, so listen up—I’ve read about this world in the Ancients’ text, but I always thought it was a myth… Guess I was wrong.” He paused, letting out a hollow, mortified chuckle. “This world is nearly an opposite mirror to ours. Everything here is paralleled, but twisted. That includes living beings… In my world, Dark’s opposite is a very kind, caring man named Meta Knight. That’s actually not his real name, but I don’t give his name out unsolicited. It’s for his own safety.

“Anyway, this ‘Master’ is going to use the evil mirror versions of ourselves to act as us over in our world, slowly influencing the people into following Nightmare’s intentions. My parallel self and my buddy Daroach’s are already over there, no doubt causing trouble.” He paused, giving a drawn-out sigh. “Man… all this hit out of nowhere. It’s Nightmare’s invasion all over again… I don’t know what to do.”

He finally stopped and allowed Shadow to take it all in. He didn’t seem angry anymore, but his expression was just flat. Needless to say, Dedede didn’t expect the kid to walk up to him and place a reassuring paw on his foot. “Wan’ help, poyo. Keep youw home safe; no end up wike mine.”

A sickening knot formed in King Dedede’s stomach—that sentence had many, many implications, and coming from a kid, it sounded mortifying. Shadow must have seen some frightening things… How in the name of the Ancients did he keep his sanity at such a young age?

He shook his head. That wasn’t important right now…

“Thanks, kid. I appreciate it.” He stood up and looked over at poor Kirby, who was still shaking like a leaf. “Hey Kirby… Did you hear all that? Whatever happened… No matter how real it seemed, I didn’t do anything to you. It was a manifestation of the mirror, and in turn, this world. Its sole purpose is to make us question our reality. Don’t believe its lies.”

Kirby chanced a look at King Dedede. Again he immediately remembered the king’s red eyes filled with the burning itch to kill, and how he so easily knocked out Meta Knight and himself… But this time he refused to look away. The more he looked the more he saw the genuine compassion in his eyes. Coupled with the fact that he had seen two other clones already it was possible he wasn’t lying… Perhaps it _was_ him, the _real_ Dedede. But there was only one way to find out...

He stood up, walked shakily to the king and reached for his outstretched paw, yet prepared to make a beeline for shelter in case this was a trick. His shivering paw touched Dedede’s… but nothing. No movement, no attempt to attack, not even an angry yell.

“Don’t worry, little guy; it’s me.” He suddenly brought the little puffball into a hug. “And we’re gonna get our friends back; I promise.”

It _is_ him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Even though this is a scrapped chapter doesn't mean I'm not open to critique on it! I'm always looking for ways to improve my writing, so any and all comments I get helps. :)
> 
> I got more scrapped stuff sitting around but I dunno when I'm gonna post it. Whenever I feel like it I guess. I'm posting this after midnight where I am right now; I'm tired and I wanna go to bed. G'night!


	2. Soldier On Chapter 6 (Partial)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...Aaand here's where we go from huge chunks to scrawny bits. Hope you're up for it, 'cause I was bad and didn't finish scenes completely! Anyway, here's mostly finished scenes from what would've been chapter 6. They are connected, by the way, I just didn't write the connecting scene...

“So we have to find the pieces of all the mirrors, fix ‘em, and then everybody will be freed?”

Shadow nodded as he watched Dedede look inside the bag. He had a dumbfounded look written all over his face. “That’s a lot of pieces… and that’s not even _all_ of them, right? This is going to take forever...”

There were a _lot_ of pieces in the bag, and most of them were very small; some of them were even smaller than a pea. When he witnessed Daroach get trapped in a mirror, the pieces flew in all different directions. Assuming that that was the case for the other mirrors, the shards could be _anywhere._ They would have to keep a sharp eye out… but they would also have to act quickly before someone stumbled upon them. Either way, he felt that something would end up going wrong…

“Well… come on; we may as well get started. I don’t think it’s too late, so we still have some time to at least start rebuilding the other mirrors.”

It was easier said than done: as they didn’t have all the pieces for the other mirrors, figuring out which part went where was excruciatingly difficult. They only ended up rebuilding half of Daroach’s mirror, and a measly fraction of Meta Knight’s. Even then there were still some shards left in the bag because they couldn’t fit those anywhere. They would have to come back.

Shadow led them through the atrium the mirrors were kept in, to even _more_ mirrors that King Dedede and Kirby had failed to notice before. “Where do those lead?” asked Dedede.

“Places,” Shadow explained. “Go in them, find pieces, come back.”

Shadow’s vocabulary was much more developed than Kirby’s. This kid simply knew too much for his age… And Dedede thought what Kirby had to go through was gruesome enough.

“Sounds like a plan. Do you think there’s any more shards around here though?”

Shadow shrugged. “’Dunno. Wan’ look?”

“Yeah, su—hey, is that one?” Dedede’s eyes lit up as he pointed towards something in the distance. The pale white moonlight reflected off of something small, and shiny. The trio raced over to it in hopes that it was indeed another mirror shard.

It wasn’t. It was golden. It was a sword, which had four spikes coming out of the sharp edge of the blade; two on each side. It had a light brown handle with stripes, and a bright red ruby embedded in its rain guard.

“Kirby, isn’t that… Meta Knight’s sword?”

Kirby nodded. It was; there was, as far as he knew, no other sword like it. It was a special sword crafted by an ancient being only for the greatest Star Warriors, unable to be wielded by anyone other than the Chosen Ones. Meta Knight was one of them, and Kirby discovered that he was also one by accident when he picked it up after Meta Knight had dropped it.

But… after all that happened, Kirby couldn’t bring himself to even look at it. It instantly brought back those painful moments that happened just hours earlier.

_The blade was torn from his hold, flying through the air._

_The evil one rendered him weak, hurling insults at his face._

_He was trapped in a prison of glass without a second thought._

_The heart-stopping shatter of glass echoed through the air as his fragments fell to the ground, Kirby calling out his name._

Kirby broke down again, weeping quietly. Dedede being freed confirmed that he wasn’t dead, but the memories… they still hurt. Kirby had been freed from his prison after so long, reunited with the one who was the closest to being a father-figure to him—and just like that, they were painfully torn apart again. Already Kirby missed him so much…

* * *

_**Kirby… Kirby, is that you?!** _

“What’s going on?! Who are you?… Am I talking?! What is this!”

Everything was bothering him at once. The psychedelic lights flashing, pulsing in his head. The high-pitched ringing and other garbled, monstrous noises. It was like a computer glitching. It was terrifying.

He wanted that voice to speak to him again. It was unfamiliar to him, but it was gentle and soothing. Like the voice of a mother.

“Please, answer me, I’m scared…”

And just like that, it stopped. Everything calmed, silenced. No more lights, no more sounds. It was just him and the darkness.

_**I’m… sorry. I was scared too. Things… are quite strange around here when I let my emotions go unchecked.** _

The world around him brightened just a bit. It didn’t do much to comfort him since it was still an empty void.

_**Kirby, it’s so wonderful to finally speak to you, even if I never imagined it would be under these circumstances. I’m the spirit within the legendary sword, Galaxia. My name is Esme.** _

“Where am I?” Kirby asked. “And why… why can I talk all of a sudden?”

_**We are in a combination of both mine and your subconscious. It is influenced, controlled by our thoughts and emotions. We were both scared only a minute ago, so that explains the chaos that happened. As for your newfound ability to speak, as I said, this is our combined subconscious. Anything can happen in our minds.** _

Streams of colored light streaked through the darkness, with frightening sounds of lightning. Kirby gasped and whimpered a bit, only for more currents to fly, circling around him and swirling around his feet.

_**Child… you are still scared. I can sense it. Tell me. What’s wrong?** _

“I… I don’t know.”

Lightning flashed and the world started to fill with flamboyant colors again, deep rumbling sounds echoing in the distance. Kirby screamed and curled in on himself, wanting it all to go away.

_**Kirby!** _

Esme’s normally gentle, comforting voice boomed through the reaches of their combined minds, nearly scaring Kirby out of his wits. Lightning flashed again, more aggressively this time, before the storm of color calmed slightly.

 _ **Shh, Child, it is okay… I am with you now,**_ she said, quietly this time.

Kirby sobbed, his blue eyes shimmering with the threat of tears. “I… is this real? Am I dreaming? Are _you_ real, Esme?”

Esme laughed. It was a strangely beautiful laugh, full of life. It even influenced the world around Kirby to calm again, and be filled with a cool, soothing wind. _**Oh, Kirby, I am as real as it gets. You and Meir have so little faith…**_

Kirby still found himself doubting her statement. How could he put it… it just didn’t “feel” real in a way. Something about all this raised a red flag, that he shouldn’t trust what he was hearing or seeing.

 _ **My point stands.**_ She laughed again. _**This is our subconscious, Kirby. You can’t hide things from me while you’re here. But it’s okay… you can trust me.**_

Kirby, try as he might, didn’t like that idea. He just met Esme, and he still wasn’t sure if she was what she claimed she was. “Why should I trust you?”

She sighed, tired of his questions. _**How about I tell you a secret… about Meta Knight?**_

Kirby didn’t answer. She continued anyway. _**As tough as he may seem, he actually loves sweets. Back in the war he always kept a candy bar with him, even on the battlefield. It’s something he can’t resist.**_

In spite of the doubt still residing within him, Kirby cracked a smile at her words.

_**And remember his friend, Garlude? Meta Knight used to have a crush on her.** _

Kirby giggled this time. “Is all that really true?”

_**Of course, Child. He has wielded me for hundreds of years, slaying through legions of Demon Beasts. I know him inside and out. If I found out he was hiding something from me, I’d be very surprised.** _

Kirby’s smile faltered as he thought more of his mentor. “...I miss him so much. I… I felt brave whenever he was around me. But now, he’s gone; I don’t know what to do...”

_**Keep going.** _

Kirby raised an eyebrow. “What?”

_**You heard me. Keep going. That’s would Meta Knight would want you to do.** _

A pause. Esme continued: _**Kirby, Meir misses you too. He loves you more than you’ll ever know… He wants, more than anything, to hold you in his arms, ease you worries, and never let you go. But now… he cannot. In the meantime, I hope to fill that place.**_

_**But I can’t do that unless you let me.** _ _**Kirby, why are you running from me?** _

Kirby’s face furrowed in confusion. “Running? I’m not running from anything...”

_**Stop doubting, Kirby. I am with you now. We can figure this out together, but only if you believe. Believe in me.** _

**_Let me help you._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Told ya it was short. Like Meta Knight I wanted to give Galaxia, or rather the spirit inside of it a name. Not exactly a cool, edgy name for a supernatural being but I thought it's meaningful enough. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> By the way, the connecting scene was supposed to be Kirby picking up Galaxia and promptly passing out from the power, sending him to the subconscious.


	3. Soldier On Random Scraps

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back-to-back update 'cause I'm BORED! :D
> 
> These scenes aren't necessarily connected and can contain moments that make you go "Wait, what?" I don't even know where these were supposed to be in the general story, they would've just been thrown in at the applicable time, I suppose.
> 
> One more thing: I'm posting an old oneshot from Fanfiction.net this Sunday. Keep your eyes peeled!

Far above the skies of Dreamland, past the stratosphere of Planet Popstar, seven islands floated, each having a natural beauty and environment that was similar to Planet Popstar’s, but unique in their own way. They contained a mysterious power as old as time itself that allowed them to soar miles off of the ground, free from the pull of gravity.

On the highest island sat a castle, beautifully detailed and lavishly furnished. It was decorated with countless vibrant and exotic blooming plants, frequently looked after by the royal family themselves. The entire structure was exceedingly bright and vivid, appearing friendly and inviting to anyone who wished to come.

This past week, though, the palace had been off-limits to visitors. The reason for this was very… unfortunate.

A floating figure drifted through the unusually drab halls at a crawling pace. White hair covered his little brown head, reaching down to his shoulders; and two decently long, amber horns protruded from near the top on either sides. A red scarf was bundled around his neck, and he wore a handsome green vest. His flowing dark-green cape was decorated by a web-like pattern, and his six hands, seemingly dismembered from his body, donned white gloves, each emblazoned with a singular orange ring. His thin line of a mouth – with two tiny fangs barely visible underneath the upper lip – was contorted into a frown. His misty white eyes glossed over and quivered with the threat of tears. As if it were a newborn child, he gently carried an assemblage of flowers, colorful in variety, thoughtfully picked and arranged by none other than himself.

He approached two large wooden doors and suddenly stopped. He mentally repeated a brief speech of compassion he had prepared beforehand as he gingerly readjusted a few blossoms nestling within the bouquet. Then, with his four free hands, he shoved the doors open with what little strength he possessed. The loud _,_ creaking yawn that reverberated through the room on the other side was almost painful to hear in an unsettling silence so thick that it nearly felt suffocating.

The area he roamed into was very large and open. Light flooded in through all sides, through grand, crystal windows. Piled on top of and around a round table in the corner of the room were what seemed to be hundreds of specimens of angiosperms, wrapped in brightly-colored tissue papers and tied together with big, beautiful ribbons. If one failed to notice the short notes of sympathy attached to many of them, one might have thought that they had wandered into a florist’s shop.

His gaze fell on a shrunken, shivering, feeble frame, leaning heavily on two vacant thrones. A simple rustle of the tissue papers swaddling his own arrangement of flowers was all that was needed to seize their attention. They whipped around, their delicate features revealing that they were female.

She was the exact same as him in terms of species, but her clothes were clearly more rich in comparison: she donned a frilled, airy, light-pink dress which length reached the floor. Her silken gloves which fit her hands tightly were a snow white with hot pink hearts stamped on them. Her face was drenched with tears, and she visibly trembled as she battled to choke down sobs. Every breath was a struggle to take into her being, hindered by the tightened knot of her throat.

Laying askew on her head, camouflaged among her own white strands of hair, was a small, bejeweled tiara carved from silver, glimmering in the radiant glory of the morning sunlight.

The shock from seeing this individual so… so _broken_ caused the empathetic words he had stringed together to be all but forgotten. The blossoms fell to the tiled floor, petals and leaves scattering as they made impact. He flew to her in an instant, and she to him. They met in the middle of the throne room in a tangle of hands as they both attempted to wrap the other in an embrace—one wanting to give solace, the other seeking it.

Her walls broke. More tears spilled out, and heartbreaking cries along with it. She clung to him like a drowning person, lost at sea. She buried her head into his shoulder, wetting his cape with teardrops. He didn’t push her away in spite of this, as her constricting grip made it impossible… he didn’t want to, either.

“They’re-they’re g-g-gone...” she sputtered, fighting to piece even her words together.

All he could do was stroke her head comfortingly, until he found his voice again. “It’ll be okay...”

He facepalmed at his poor choice of words; _no_ , _of course it won’t be okay!_

His statement instantly took effect: she lifted her head from his shoulder, moist face scrunched slightly in emotional fury. She repeated in a voice that was borderline hysterical, “They’re _gone,_ Taranza!” When he winced, her rage faded, sorrow overtook her once more, and she returned her face to his shoulder. “Th-they’re gone...”

Desperate to help her in any sort of way, he grasped for more desirable words. “I know… I’m sorry… so, so sorry, Sectonia...”

He _hated_ seeing her like this.

Her uncontrollable sobs continued to bounce off the walls. All he could do was keep caressing her, gently shushing her cries like a mother consoling their child… never letting go.

All while a scene they witnessed mere days ago continuously flashed through their minds: the lifeless bodies of the king and the queen – her _beloved_ _parents –_ lying not in a puddle of blood… but of _paint._ Splashes of every color of the rainbow made their unmoving forms unrecognizable, but the way it was all put together made it disturbingly beautiful—the masterpiece of an artful assassin.

* * *

“Bianchi Dectective Agency, this is Spinni, how may I help you?...I’m sorry ma’am, but Mr. Bianchi is busy at the moment; would you like me to take a message for him?...No? Err… Hold, please.”

Spinni set her receiver down and hopped off of her desk. She scurried on all fours to Daroach’s office and stuck her face through what was left open of the door. “Daroach, there’s a cranky old lady on line one, and she refuses to listen to me… She only wants to speak with you.”

Daroach sighed; he was clearly not in the mood for this. Anyone who saw the dark lines under his eyes could easily tell. “Thank you, Spinni.”

“Good luck,” she said as she left his office. Daroach hesitated for a moment before picking up the receiver and pressing the button that connected to the correct line. He had dealt with people such as this many times, and they had never failed to aggravate him to no end. Their behavior was understandable – either they had property stolen or a close friend or family member killed, of course they would be stressed out, failing to keep their emotions in check – but they were extremely hard to talk to. They acted as if _he_ was to blame for all their issues in life. He would even prefer to talk to a crying person over the angry ones—the crying people were annoying too, but at least _they would actually listen_.

Regardless, Daroach couldn’t help but feel bad for them all… He knew how they felt. Especially those who were affected by a murder. To have someone taken away from your life without warning—it was an overwhelming shock that was too much to bear. Even worse was the realization that you would never see them again—

Daroach shook it off. Now wasn’t the time for that.

“Hello?”

“ _I need you down here NOW!_ ”

“Ma’am, please calm down and explain _what_ you need me for. What happened? Did you make sure to call the police or emergency services first?”

“The police and the medical team are already here. But it’s already too late, he’s gone...”

Daroach was surprised. She had actually stopped to listen. “Okay, who’s gone?”

“My grandpa, Guapo! He’s dead… I think he was murdered. I need you to come down here and make sure!”

“How can you tell he was murdered? Any wounds or weapons?”

“No, but the whole house is covered in paint. And Guapo’s drenched in it.”

Daroach couldn’t find his voice for a second. “... _Paint?_ ” He remembered Taranza telling him that the king and queen of his kingdom was found in a similar manner some time back. Could this perhaps be related?

“That’s… odd. I can come down there and investigate Ma’am, but I don’t exactly offer my services for free.”

“I understand, I’ll pay whatever it takes. Just find justice for my poor grandpa...”

She proceeded to provide him with the essential information, such as the address of the crime scene and her full name. Once Daroach got all the details he scheduled a meeting and hung up. He could pick up a hint of sadness in her tone… the poor girl. He felt bad for her. He couldn’t promise results, but he swore to try as hard as he could in finding the killer.

* * *

He wished this moment could last forever.

The seven colorful stars in his hand glowed with power. He could practically feel it radiating off of the celestial objects and flowing through his body; that’s how strong it was. They had the energy to do incredible things… as it was, he could just save them and use them whenever he felt like it. Or he could keep them as a treasure.

No. He didn’t travel all throughout the galaxy, braving the fiercest weather conditions and fleeing from the most frightening monsters just to find a couple of souvenirs. He was going to put them to their greatest use. He was going to make a change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Make what you will of that last one. It's supposed to be Magolor holding those stars, but you can interpret it any way you want! :)


	4. Scrapped scene from Soldier On featuring Susie & Ribbon idk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I KEEP FORGETTING TO POST THIS ONE SO HERE IT IS

The dim light of a computer monitor lit up the pale, tired face of a young woman. Her half-closed eyes would bring one to assume that she was bored; but the truth was that she was very engrossed by the story she had just found on the internet. She was desperately fighting off sleep in order to finish it, as she feared that, if she did indeed hit the hay without reaching the end of the current chapter, that she would forget her spot.

Alas, along with exhaustion, overall stress, and the rapping of knuckles on the door to her office, it seemed like everything in the world was determined to prevent her to spend some free quality time with herself today.

Seeing that she obviously wouldn’t be able to finish the story tonight, she closed the web-page and swerved her office chair dramatically around, before standing up. As she made her way to the door, she made sure that her exaggerated groan was loud enough to be heard by the visitor on the other side. “What is it?”

The demand was way more impolite than she would usually ask of others, but at this time of night, she didn’t care how ill-mannered she may be: while she went about doing her already stressful usual business, she had to deal with bodyguards, obnoxious fans, the paparazzi, and – worst of all – business representatives watching her every move with haunting glares. All in all, she was drained, and didn’t want to deal with anyone else at the moment. The bags under her eyes and her frazzled, tangled pink hair was evidence of that.

“I’m sorry, m-ma'am, but I n-need to ask you a few questions...”

The woman immediately regretted her rude behavior at hearing that young, feeble voice, and she swung open the door so wildly that she almost knocked herself in the head in the process. On the other side, she found her personal assistant, who was also her best friend: a very young fairy, dominated by the woman in terms of height. Her hair – also pink in color, yet a shade lighter that the woman’s – was equally messy, with wisps of hair lining her forehead curling up and floating about freely; the rest of her hair was held back by a bright red ribbon tying it back into a ponytail. She, too, had bags underneath her dim eyes, and she wasn’t flying like fairies would for what seemed to be every minute of their lives; instead, her fragile wings fell limp onto her back, against her expensive red dress coat. Her overall droopy complexion pretty much confirmed that she was also exhausted, if not more than the woman.

“Bow-Tie! I’m so sorry; come in, come in.”

The little fairy giggled at the nickname as she followed the woman’s orders, though her sluggish movements implied that her little burst of happiness was heavily forced. The child did that often: she hated when other people were sad or worried about her, so she’d immediately put on a convincing smile and attitude that would lead the usual onlooker to believe that she was fine.

But the truth was, she wasn’t. The woman knew that she was both physically and mentally exhausted, and that’s why she hated the current condition of the society that she lived in: what was Ripple Central thinking, hiring children so young and naive – that some didn’t even know how to read or write yet – into demanding jobs that were often too complicated or daunting for the little ones?

She criticized this on public television, and, as expected, it deeply affected her celebrity status. She lost some fans, others sided with her, while some simply didn’t care and continued to support her as a celebrity, regardless of her stated opinions.

Frankly, she didn’t care. She lost some of her following—so what? She got her declaration out there, and hopefully it would incite the government to rethink their horrible decisions.

“Ma’am? Are you okay?”

It wasn’t until the little fairy spoke again until the woman realized that she had been staring into the empty space where the little girl once was, gripping the doorknob tightly with a fist shaking from anger. She released her hold, her hand now damp and sweaty.

“Sorry, Bow-Tie, I was… thinking of something.” Despite her lack of energy, the woman still managed to make a show of just walking over to the desk, placing a hand on her hips which she swayed from side to side with each step she took. She raised an eyebrow when she saw the heavy, thick folder in the child’s arms, full of folded, disorganized papers which were fraying or ripped at the corners.

The fairy flipped through the pages before pulling out a sheet that wasn’t folded or wrinkled, but looked as if it was just printed. She proceeded to scan the paper before reading what was presumably on it aloud: “So, Kholer Auditorium would be glad to have you, The Arkenstone Stadium is asking for a higher price than we offered—“

“Yeah, yeah whatever. What about the Dedede Amphitheater?” The woman interrupted.

The little fairy frowned at her, and hesitated before continuing: “They haven’t gotten back to us yet.”

The woman groaned in dread, pressing her hand into the middle of her forehead. “Oooh, not good, not good. I wanted to have the tour dates released by the end of this month...”

“Which is why I think you should choose somewhere else.”

The woman’s head snapped up, and she looked at the fairy like she had spoken complete gibberish.

“Not only that, but… Dreamland’s in a rather, er, _sorry_ state, if you get what I mean. They’re the most recent country to be overtaken by Nightmare, and they’ve lost ways for international communication, much less _universal;_ so trying to contact them is probably a lost cause.” The little fairy had placed the folder on the woman’s desk and pulled out a pen to write something on the paper while she was talking. As an afterthought, she added, “ _And,_ there’s always a chance of running into a Demon Beast there...”

The woman took a moment to process the words. “I don’t care,” she decided with a clap of her hands.

“Wha...?” the fairy stammered. “B-but, I don’t think—“

“ _I_ think it’s best to wait for now. Like you said, they lost many forms of communication, but mail isn’t one of them. Sure, the Universal Postal System is pretty unreliable these days, but deliveries almost always go through. If King Dedede didn’t reply yet, it’s most likely because he didn’t even receive the letter yet.” The little fairy opened her mouth to object, but the woman stopped her: “I’m not finished! I haven’t been to Dreamland in _years_ , or pretty much any of Planet Popstar, no less! I think it’s about time I visit. I’ve got fans all over the galaxy, so I’m pretty sure that those there would love to see me. After all, galactic travel has been banned for the average citizen, so it’s not like my fans can just hop into a spaceship and blast off to wherever my next concert will be.”

The fairy stared off into space for a moment, but in the end, was unable to find any wrong in the woman’s reasoning. “Yeah, you’re right. I guess we can wait,” she opened her file and replaced the paper inside, taking the documents into her arms, “but not for too long.”

The woman snickered. “You got me there. And, well...” She trailed off, unsure how to put her new thoughts into words.

“What is it?”

The woman wandered over to the wall, where a complete collection of all the CD's she released in her musical career were displayed. She ran her hand across their smooth, plastic surface. “If anyone needs my music now, it’s definitely Dreamland more than anyone else.” She suddenly whipped around angrily, scaring the little fairy. “And I’m not saying that just because I’m trying to capitalize off of everyone!”

When she noticed the terrified look on the young fairy’s face, she immediately became guilty. “It’s just… I think...” She fiddled with her hair nervously, and sighed. “I want to spread my message of love and encouragement; to _them_ , especially.”

She sashayed up to the child – though this time with less enthusiasm – placed her hand on her shoulder, and spoke softly. “The galaxy’s become a cruel, dark place ever since the rise of that horrid wizard. Everyone’s losing hope. I just want to remind them that love and kindness is still here… even if you have to dig deep to find it.”

The fairy put on a solemn expression and nodded. The action was very subtle, but the woman was close enough to notice.

“Anyway,” the fairy exclaimed and grinned from ear-to-ear, all previous sorrow she’d been expressing suddenly gone. “Thanks for your help. I’ll send a confirmation reply to the Kholer Auditorium; and I’ll contact the owners of Arkenstone to ask how low a price they’re willing to take.”

She hefted her folder against her chest, and hopped to the hallway, all while quickly beating her wings and grunting with each failed effort to fly.

“Bow-Tie, wait!” the woman called. “I wanted to show you the new designer dress I bought today!”

A gasp resounded from the hall, and the fairy’s head popped into the doorway, mussy hair bouncing and eyes shining bright. “Oh my gosh, you got a new dress, Su-Su?! Why didn’t you tell me earlier?! Eeee, show it to me, show it to me!” The fairy squealed and finally found the strength to lift herself into the air, zipping around the doorway like a fly.

The woman invited her back in, and, giggling like the girls they were, they shut the door to block out any bother that may invade on their privacy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How're ya doin'? Good, hopefully? Good. Bad? Still good, 'cause you'll get through it. I believe in you!
> 
> I'm doin' good. I'm listenin' to Carpenters music like the weird nerd I am. "Only Yesterday" is stuck in my head.
> 
> Come give me a shout on my Tumblr if you'd like: <https://k-sei-bellissima.tumblr.com/>


End file.
